


Promise To The Witch

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character with Anomic aphasia, Chases, Gen, Halloween, Pre-Canon, Witches, aliens on earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-22 15:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: A Galra general seeks the aid of Haggar to save her dying unborn child, and Haggar agrees to help. For a price.





	Promise To The Witch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenofspade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/gifts).



> All the thanks in the world to my wonderful beta! ♥︎

“High Priestess Haggar?” 

The general who approached her quarters peered up at her with such wide pleading, shy eyes that Haggar could almost forgive her for interrupting her pre-ritual wash. 

“What is it?” Haggar asked sternly, although she had a vague sense she knew what the question would be. There was another presence lingering about the woman. Her eyes narrowed at her. 

The general took a tiny step back. “I’m scared,” she said. “I’m with child, and I fear I might lose it.” 

That was the reason for the second presence. Haggar approached her slowly. 

“I involved myself with a man in another world. I do not think Galra blood blends well with his kind. The child’s been turbulent inside me ever since, but I want to keep it! Please, High Priestess, I don’t want to lose my child!” 

“Half-breeds are not uncommon among the Galra,” Haggar said. “When they manage to survive. Come, child. Let me examine you.” 

She was uncharacteristically gentle in how she took the general’s hand, helping her to her examining table. It was often here where Haggar interrogated and tormented many soldiers and suspected traitors, or tortured aliens from other worlds for intel, but the general was made to lie back comfortably as Haggar set to her task. 

Her thin hands glowed faintly as they roamed over the other woman’s abdomen. The general kept one eye on her, flinching if Haggar so much as frowned. 

And frown she did. 

“Which planet is the father from?” 

The general hesitated. “I do not know. I take lovers from every planet I visit in my service to the emperor, High Priestess. I do not know who the father is.” 

Haggar made a sound under her breath but said nothing else. After several long moments she stepped back and placed a hand on the general’s shoulder, giving it a brief comforting squeeze before retreating her hand back to her person. 

“Your child will live,” Haggar said. “I understand the concern of a mother losing her young. But there is one stipulation in you coming here: I must see the child again when it is born.” 

The silence that followed was a couple seconds too long, just enough to confirm Haggar’s suspicions before the general gave a nod in agreement. 

“Vrepit Sa,” the general said shakily, with her fist over her heart.

* * *

The phone rang five, six, seven times before he grouchily reached over and picked it up off the stained coffee table. 

“Hello?” he slurred. His head pounded so badly he could feel it right behind his right eyeball. 

“George? This is Voltra.” 

“My name’s not George…” _Who’s Voltra?_

He heard the sharp intake of breath. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name. I’m sorry. I have a problem remembering names. I seem to recall we discussed that long ago. But I do remember that the name George is given to some of you humans, so that will be your name today.” 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, it’s you!” 

He — he supposed he was George now — jolted upright on the couch. “Why are you back here? Did you crash your ship again?” 

He knew he was going to pay for this some day, all for a stupid adolescent obsession over aliens and the like. The desire to go to outer space, find aliens, meet them, learn about their worlds…it had always fascinated him. But he was rubbish at piloting and bombed every single entrance exam to Galaxy Garrison. Now struggling in his forties to make a buck, all he possessed were this shack and a strange alien woman who _would not go away_. 

“I did not crash my ship,” Voltra said calmly. “I came here for an important reason. I must deliver important cargo to you.” 

“Cargo.” 

A pause, broken by some interference in the reception — was that a cry? — and then: “Our child, George. We’re at war out there, and our child will be safe with you.” 

Dropping his arm, it hung limply to his side as George peered out through the window, mouth agape. 

_“Fuck!”_

* * *

“George? Are you still there?” Voltra asked, pressing some buttons on her dashboard. She sighed and turned to the bundled infant nearby. She had laid him out on the floor, having no crib to place him in. But she kept an eye on him every few minutes. “Earth uses way too many wavelengths for their radios and who knows what else! I’m losing contact with your father!” 

“Commander?” 

Jumping at the new voice that boomed off the receiver, Voltra immediately gave the salute. “I serve in the name of Galra!” 

“Sister…” 

The static on screen smoothed out to reveal a familiar face. She heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Brother?” 

“Sister, I demand to know what you are doing back on that primitive planet.” 

“I need to give the child to his father,” Voltra explained, “before the witch takes him from me. Brother, this child should not have lived! Our blood and human blood do not mingle well. He was dying inside me but that witch saved both me and him, but…I think she knew. She knew he must have come from a world she had never encountered before, and I fear this could blow everything we’ve ever built for the Blade! I was dumb to spend that night in the shack with that human, but he was handsome and I was curious about him and —”

“Please spare me the details—”

“And after she ensured the child will live, she made me promise to hand him over once I’ve delivered, with the excuse that she wished to examine him to ensure he is well. But there is nothing Galra about him! He’s a dead giveaway of what species I had been fraternizing with: his ears are small, and he’s so pale and more hairless than his father! 

“I could not bear the thought of jeopardizing this entire world because of the product of my affair with that human!” 

“So you drove straight down back to that planet. You are aware Haggar is trailing you, are you not?” 

Voltra gasped sharply, a hand shooting up to her mouth. 

“I…did not think…” 

“I have been keeping watch on her,” her brother continued, “and I have reason to believe she suspects you of hiding something. She’s become obsessed with your whereabouts. She has accessed your schedule, noted the period of your absence, the period you took off for delivering the child. She deduced that was the moment the child had been born, and you have not fulfilled your promise.

“She’s coming for you.” 

“I led her right to the humans!” Voltra gasped. “I just hope she finds them too dull to be of any use to her! I have to deliver this child to safety as quickly as I can and return to the fleet.” As she spoke this she rummaged for her communicator device and adjusted it to her belt. She strapped on her boots more securely and checked in on her sleeping infant. 

“Sister…I fear we may not see one another again even if you do reach the fleet. One never breaks a promise to the witch.” 

With the child tucked securely in her arms, Voltra hung her head in small shame. 

“I know,” she said. “I will face the witch and my fate. But I will not have this child die or end up as one of her experiments. I wanted to see him born; I wanted to have him. She was the only one who could have helped me back then. Now I return him to his father because him staying with me would be too dangerous. I will update you on my progress, brother.” 

The man sighed and closed his eyes tightly. “Sister, my name is Thace. Please remember _my_ name, at least. Stay safe.” 

Voltra smiled. “Yes, Thace.” 

Air chilly in the cooling world bit her cheeks as she stepped out of her spacecraft. She scrunched her eyes against the howling wind, taking inventory, recognizing that she had landed on a large glade in the midst of a forest (good for hiding her small craft from the curious eyes of these beings). She only hoped she had entered her coordinates right. A little distance away should be the town, and the child’s father somewhere within walking distance. At the very least she hope she got the right continent. 

Suddenly, goosebumps flared over her arm as she felt the trees behind her wither and drain of their quintessence. 

_No! She’s near!_ She cuddled the child close to her chest, shushing him softly when he began to get agitated, and ran. 

The moment she stepped out of the forest, she cried out.

* * *

“Voltra, is that you? We got cut off and I got worried.” 

“Sorry, but something interfered with our communicators. We need a rendezvous point. I thought I had the right coordinates of where I should land, but nothing here is the same as one year ago. You have strange creatures about.” 

“What sort of strange are we talking about? Large beasts with fangs-type weird? You didn’t end up in the Safari, did you?” 

“No, no I think I got the right continent, but — George, we have to do this quick! I’m being chased by a witch!” 

“Honey, it’s Halloween!” 

“What’s Hallo—no, George, this witch was on the same fleet as me! She’s the reason your son’s alive but will be the reason we’ll both die if I don’t do this!” 

“Where are you now?” 

“I…I don’t know.”

* * *

“Nice costume,” said a small human as he walked up to her. She deduced it was a human child from the high-pitched voice and small stature, his eyes wide and smiling, warm and animated against a too-pale face. Little fangs protruded from his mouth, and a tiny trickle of blood ran from his lips. 

“Are you supposed to be a cat?” a young girl asked as she ran up towards them. Voltra opened her mouth then quickly closed it, confused and uncertain how to answer her. 

“Don’t be stupid, Verica! How many cats do you know are purple?” the boy said. 

“Maybe she’s an alien cat? She’s wearing a space suit,” pointed out a third. This time Voltra gave a tiny pained scream as the third young human joined them. She had never encountered a green human being before, much less one with an axe protruding from his skull. 

“Your injuries!” Voltra wept. “Perhaps I can do something about them?” She wasn’t certain _what_ she could do; she wasn’t a healer, but seeing a child in such turmoil…

But the other children laughed, including the one with the axe sticking out of his head. 

“She’s a magical healing space cat! COOL!” 

“Was that a character from the play? You know, Cats?” 

“I don’t watch plays, eww.” 

“It’s okay, space cat lady! I’m supposed to be Frankie’s monster!” the boy said happily. 

“Frankenstein’s monster never had an axe to the head, Chuckie!” 

“Well, maybe I like wearing the axe like a hat, David!” 

The child kicked in her arms, and Voltra went to find a bench to sit on as she turned to pacifying her baby. The children all followed her. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you have a baby!” the girl — Verica, if Voltra remembered right — said excitedly. She leaned over and cooed over the infant as the two boys craned their necks to get a better view. 

Voltra smiled. “Yes. He is my son, but I fear for his safety. A witch is coming after us. She’s going to take him away from me.” 

“Maybe I can do a spell,” the girl said. “I’m a witch too! A good witch!” 

The two boys gave one another looks. 

“Or you can hide,” said the boy with the fangs. David.

“Where would I hide?” Voltra asked. They had pretty much guessed she was alien, though something about them had accepted her among them. Many humans, from what George had told her in her previous visit, still questioned the existence of aliens, and those who did believe in them did not think they would come to visit Earth anytime soon. 

“You also have the government to watch out for. I’ve heard stories of our ancestors and a place called Area 51, the things they got up in there…” 

But there was something else peculiar about them. A small, self-professed good witch in a frilly dress, a pale, bat-like boy, and Frankenstein’s monster, whatever that was. How far could she take her story and how honest could she be with them? 

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this place,” she finally said. “I would not know where to hide from a witch.”

“Can we throw water at this wicked witch?” Chuckie asked. 

“Pardon?” 

“How about the Spooky Trail’s Haunted House Maze?” David suggested. “It’s this small arcade and amusement park at the other side of town. They turned part of it into a haunted house where you have to go through a maze. You can hide out there. If the witch doesn’t know where she’s going, then she can get stuck and give yourself time to make a getaway.” 

“But wouldn’t she get stuck too?” Verica asked. “She’s not from here either!” 

“I remember the maze!” David retorted. “I was just there because my stupid brother made me do it on some dare. Listen, lady, I can draw you a map and everything. There are secret exits you can sneak out of while the witch isn’t looking. That’s where the spookers hide and go out from as they please.” 

Chuckie scoffed. _“Spookers?”_

“Yeah, the people who are paid to jump out and scare you. Isn’t that what they’re called?” 

“I hope they won’t frighten my child,” Voltra said. 

“Yeah, they might not even let her in!” Verica said. “Who brings a baby into a haunted house?” 

Voltra glanced behind her shoulder and tightened her hold of her child. “I can feel her. She’s coming closer.” 

Chuckie yelped and hid behind Verica. David thought carefully, unfazed by the thought of being torn apart by Witch Haggar. “Then you need to lure the witch in and sneak inside the haunted house from the side.”

* * *

“Brother? Thace?” 

“Sister! Ulaz and I have been trying to reach you! We hope your mission is running smoothly?” 

“It seems I have chosen a peculiar time to return my son.” Voltra sighed. “It seems a holiday is taking place, and…I had never entertained the idea that humans would be so morbid. The humans…they deface their crops, particularly these large orange ones — they have entire patches of them that they just give them all away — and they go attired in costume and dance about in some demonic manner. I have never seen the likes of this before! I was asked the same question a few times by some, small and tall humans alike. They reminded me of the Blade’s mantra except…” 

“Except what?” 

“I was given a choice. With the Blade we live on the principle of Knowledge or Death. Here I was given two choices: Trick or Treat.” 

After a strained pause, Ulaz’s voice replied, “I do not like this. Please return as soon as you can.” 

“Not until the child is safe in the arms of his human father. And please do not let the true reason of my travels here be known to Kolivan. I hid my pregnancy as well as I could from the Blade and all of the Galra, save for Zarkon’s witch. It was only you and Thace who were ever aware.” 

The sigh drew static on the receiver. “You have both of our promises.” 

“Thank you.” 

“How much longer until the child is in the safety of his father’s custody?” 

“I don’t know. I still have to contact him and tell him of my plans. I can still feel her following me, Thace. She’s taking her time. She’s studying the land. The sooner I get into that haunted house—”

“Haunted house?” 

“It’s not actually a haunted house,” Voltra explained. “A few smart children helped me plan the trap. There’s some sort of carnival or event and if I can just get her trapped in there while I make my escape…it’s in…oh, where was that place called again? Spookers…Spooky Trails!” 

“And you trust the plans of a _child_?” 

“They know the layout of this land! And one of them has gone through the maze. He knows how I can get out easily, and for her to get entang—AH!”

“Voltra, what’s going on?” 

“She…I see her. I have to go.” 

“Voltra!”

* * *

The general changed her name more often than she cut her hair. Were it not for protocols requiring all Galra personal to keep their hair out of their faces and well-kept, she would have perhaps had forgotten to take care of that (which Haggar was sure to give her a reminder whenever it became time. The thing needed looking-after.) 

She had counted down to the moment when Voltra’s brat was due. The general, in all her efforts to remain unnoticed, was remarkably shallow-brained and unable to remain out of the limelight. Not a week had passed since the birth of the child that reports of a small ship had entered unfamiliar territory. Haggar had sought pardon from the emperor himself to leave the main fleet, just to seek out the woman herself.

The planet the general had escaped to was indeed not one her emperor had yet explored. Long ago they had noted it contained life and kept an eye on it, but inhabitants within were still too primitive, taking mere baby steps in space exploration. 

Haggar scrunched up her nose at the smell. Humans were, from the little she had gathered, a social species. Swarms of them bustled on the roads from the elders to their young whose tiny lungs could produce high-pitched shrieks that grated on her nerves. 

But it also appeared that they had come during some sort of festival, for it was clear the inhabitants around her were dressed in bizarre costumes. She got the sense she could freely walk among them without causing alarm, a disguise in plain sight. 

One less problem to deal with. 

With the general being the only Galra among them, sensing her quintessence was easy enough. It was not long before Haggar got a visual on her. She appeared to be carrying something, and her heart clenched excitedly at the thought of taking hold of the child in her hands. 

“Shouldn’t witches be green?”

She turned towards the voice. A small human boy with large glasses and a smug smile was studying her. He was dressed up in some white coat with red paint blotched here and there, and black soot smudged around his face. 

Killing him would be unwise. It would draw attention to herself, and the child was only curious about her breaking some custom among their kind. 

“I am a space witch, my dear,” Haggar said, hoping her tone was kind yet firm enough to just end the conversation there. 

The boy laughed. “No one in space believes in magic!” 

Haggar resisted the urge to show the boy a thing or two, but then the mother had just strolled by and picked him up. 

“Matthew! Don’t comment on other people’s costumes!” 

“But witches don’t exist in space!” 

“And how do you know? You haven’t been to space like your father.” 

“I will! Someday!” 

_Ancients save us all_ , Haggar thought. She slowly backed away from them while Matthew was mumbling something about broomsticks. 

To her relief, the delay did not make her lose sight of Voltra. Once spotting her again, it was to find the woman slipping into a building from the side. She followed suit. 

Mirrors lined every inch of the hall she stepped into, and Haggar paused. 

“Did you think mirrors would throw me off?” She sneered and closed her eyes. There were human inhabitants within, but she had no need for them. She had seen enough. None interested her. All that did was the child in Voltra’s arms. 

She traced the quintessence, and in victory cast off a curse that jolted the lights out of the entire building. Screams rippled throughout the suddenly pitch-black halls. She was certain one of the voices was Voltra’s. 

“Did not anticipate me doing this,” Haggar said under her breath. “I can find her.” 

She concentrated on the woman’s energy and followed it towards the source, her heart racing. The child, it was so near she could almost taste the victory, to study it and what went wrong in the pregnancy, and Voltra’s ensuing punishment for troubling her out here…

Suddenly the sense of one Galra energy became two. 

Haggar blinked. 

The attack came before she could ready herself. With the moonlight merely a sickle of silver light peeking through the cracks, she could scarcely see her attacker, or attackers, and lashed out in any which way. 

The lights suddenly blinked back on and Haggar charged forward, but no one was in the hall.

* * *

“We risked our lives back there,” Thace said, panting. “In another moment she would have known everything: our faces, the Blade, the entire rebellion’s mission.” 

“But it bought your sister time,” Ulaz said. He placed a hand on Thace’s shoulder. “We did not strike the witch down, but it bought her some time. That’s enough for now.” 

He nodded. “You speak wisely. We should hide out a little longer and make certain she returns back to the fleet safely.” 

“No.” Ulaz peered out and froze. “We must return to the fleet at once and go on as though we know nothing of this. Voltra would not want us risking our lives any more than we already have.” 

He turned back. “You may not see her again, I’m afraid.” 

Thace hung his head. “This is her battle and her choice. A pity her son may never know the truth of the battle his mother’s people fought.” 

Ulaz frowned. “May he never get entangled in our ugly battle.”

* * *

“George? Glenn?” 

“I was George earlier,” George said kindly and chuckled. “I cannot keep changing my name. I’ll forget who I am!” 

Voltra smiled as she ran up to him. “You found our meeting place.” 

“Everyone here knows Spooky Trails. But it’s better to hold our meeting here. Closer to my place, and no chance for crowds.” 

Voltra nodded. “I almost lost him back there.” She extended out her arms and offered the bundled child to George, who took the infant into his arms and cooed over him. 

“He’s perfectly human,” he marveled. “Not so much the eyes. He has Elizabeth Taylor’s eye color. Maybe she was part-Galra too.” 

Not understanding a word, Voltra nodded. 

“I didn’t think I would want to be a father when you broke the news to me, but…gosh, he’s…I love him.” The last three words came out so softly that Voltra had to lean forward. She beamed. “What is his name?” 

“Name?” Voltra shrugged. “I figured I would leave that for you to decide.” 

“What? This child is a week old and you still have not named him?” His lips formed into a thin line that Voltra had come to learn meant displeasure. 

“Is that wrong?” she asked. “I wanted you to name him. Give him a suitable name from your people. A human name. My own knowledge is limited.” 

“It’s just odd,” George said. “You name everyone around you, and yet…for us humans, naming a child means we care for them. Were you afraid giving our child a name would make you too attached?” 

At that Voltra had to laugh. “I snuck my child out of a Galra fleet from under the witch’s nose to deliver him to the safety of his father’s arms and you’re questioning if I feel _affection_ for _my_ child? You humans are ridiculous! You put too much emphasis on the weird things like a _name_!” 

“You could blame a poet for that,” George muttered with a grin.

Her annoyance ebbing away, Voltra sighed. “Sorry. I left my sword with him so he may remember me. I might never return. Because…we’re at war, and I might...”

Realizing the meaning of her words, George nodded before turning back to his son. “Our beautiful boy.” 

Voltra studied them both before looking away quickly. She smiled but it didn’t stop the teardrop from trickling down her cheek.

* * *

Haggar’s eyes narrowed over Voltra strapped to the interrogation chair; a series of lights and other gadgets were poised towards her head. 

“Now do you see what happens when you break a promise to the witch?” she hissed dangerously. 

The general squeezed her eyes. The names of the father of her child, her brother, the chase through Earth, her own son’s face, his tiny form as he was tucked safely in his father's arms...they blurred in her mind till they dissolved. Smiling at her own illness, the woman glanced up, ready to take on the witch with anything she hit her. 

“Your memory is bad, you are notorious with that,” Haggar hissed. “But there is always some remnants of memory we can always claw out…”

* * *

Unbelievable. Everything Voltra had told Haggar was the truth. The child had died at birth, and she had sought to bury it back in its father’s homeland. Having relocated the father, she wanted to give it to him, for the man to bury his son in the manner of the human race. Too distraught and embarrassed to tell Haggar that her spell had failed, Voltra had run away from her without explanation. 

Nothing was mentioned of the maze. Absolutely nothing. No intel about who had attacked Haggar in the dark. And nothing else could be found inside that damn shallow head of hers. 

And Haggar had witnessed it with her own eyes, had dug deep into the mind of the general: the human father glancing into the bundle in his arms and Voltra looking away as a tear ran down her cheeks, the child curled, unmoving, in her arms throughout the journey, of Voltra speaking somberly with a friend from the fleet. 

It was impossible. The woman was known to forget names, hers included, but could she alter her own memories to lie? 

She would have to try again. 

Something about this child, alive or dead, disturbed her.

* * *

George (he was beginning to enjoy the nickname) leaned back on his chair as he cradled his son. They watched the sun rise up, signaling the dawn and the emergence of a new month. 

“How about Keith?” George said softly to his child. “That was my grandfather’s name. Bless his soul, he fought in the last war. Air force. He was an exceptional pilot. Maybe something of that might rub off on you. Or you might like playing the guitar? I got an acoustic I can teach you once you’re big enough to hold one.” 

The child squirmed and cooed against his chest. “Do you like that name? Okay, little Keith.” George looked up and smiled as great as the rising sun. “I’m so happy you’ve come into my life.”


End file.
